


Gone

by Velynven



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Angst, Blood, F/M, Mass Effect 3 Ending Spoilers, loss of a loved one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-21
Updated: 2015-07-21
Packaged: 2018-04-10 09:33:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4386719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Velynven/pseuds/Velynven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is for an AU where Shepard's love interest accompanies them through the final sequence of the game instead of Admiral Anderson.</p><p>This was my first experience with a beta and theherocomplex made a it a truly fantastic experience.  I would not be half as proud of this without her guidance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gone

_With me as always, to hell and back but please, God, not this one... I could have done this one alone..._

* * *

Shepard was frozen and powerless for only the third time in her life. The messages her brain sent to her hand should have made her fire relentlessly at the Illusive Man but her finger was still. Her ceaseless efforts had not resulted in so much as a twitch, leaving her climbing heart rate all she had to show for her efforts.  Her desperation was building and beginning to turn to panic.  She _needed_ to remove the threat.  She needed to save Kaidan but the Reapers had left her with only her voice to wield against them.   

The knowledge that she’d spoken down two of their proxies in the past should have given her confidence but it failed to do so now.  Kaidan was a distraction which made it difficult for her to focus on her words and the growing pool of blood beneath him made it impossible for her to retain her usual cool composure. 

He knelt across from her, his expression stern and eyes strong despite what must have been incredible pain. Like her, he was afforded the power to speak, but he made no effort to move.  His biotics would have been more than enough to eliminate the Illusive Man but he had made no effort to engage them and that led her to only one conclusion.  The Reapers held him in place as well, restricting his ability to take any actions which might yet save his life. 

The Illusive Man was speaking. His response to her accusation that he'd failed in his quest to save humanity had given her hope but now the tide was turning.

“Shepard, I… I only wanted to protect humanity.”  The man stopped pacing and hung his head in shame.  He wrung his hands together in a clear indication of his uncertainty, his lack of confidence.  “The Crucible can control them.  I know it can.  I just…” 

Shepard found a brief moment of pity for her adversary. He was as much a subject of the Reapers’ will as she. And like all of the other poor souls she’d seen consumed by indoctrination, at one point in the process he had still been himself and he had been terrified and powerless. He had known what he was becoming and had had no means of stopping it. Had he been like she was now, watching his body act against his will to destroy everything he held dear? 

“We’re hanging over Earth.   _Our home_.  In case you hadn’t noticed, it’s a smoking ruin.  We could have prevented this if you hadn’t blocked us on Thessia.” she argued, her tone intentionally soft.  Sympathetic, even.  “You failed to protect humanity on that day but it’s not over yet.  Let us go.  We’ll do the rest.”  

He gave a shake of his head so subtle she nearly missed it.  His voice was laden with regret.  “I… I can’t do that, Commander.” 

“Of course you can’t.  They own you,” Kaidan said in response.  It was a sad, sad acknowledgement.  Unlike Saren and Benezia, the Illusive Man would not be convinced to change.  The indoctrination was too strong for him to wrest free of. 

 _They’d lost._   And that knowledge hit her like a freight train, crushing her last glimmer of hope.  _If she couldn’t get free of the Reapers’ control, they would all die._  

“You… you’d undo everything I’ve accomplished. I won’t let that happen.”  The words dragged out of the Illusive Man in a groan that was nearly inhuman.  As if he’d resisted them with every part of his being but had failed to hold them back.  His attentions turned to Kaidan and stepping behind him, the Illusive Man drew Kaidan’s pistol from its holster. 

Shepard’s sudden realization of what was about to happen crushed her moment of sympathy for the Illusive Man.  The panic and fear of losing Kaidan triggered her instincts.  Her world slowed down and her sniper’s focus took over.  Shepard _needed_ to move: if she didn’t, the love of her life would die.    

She made one last frantic attempt at action. This effort finally made it through the invisible barrier between her brain and the rest of her body.  So easily and freely the movements came that it was as if the barrier had never existed in the first place, like an arm breaking the surface after returning from a deep dive.  Why this effort should be any different, she didn’t know and didn’t care.  She was free and she could save him. 

The Illusive Man took aim at the back of Kaidan’s head. 

“ _No. You don't get to do that,_ ” Shepard growled as she raised her gun and squeezed her finger around the trigger. She managed just enough strength to keep her aim true as the Carnifex recoiled against her hand. The action felt so light and free that she wasn’t sure it truly happened until the sound of the shot reverberated like a thunderclap in the too-quiet chamber. 

The Illusive Man slumped and collapsed to the floor. Still aware, still alive despite the leaking bullet hole perfectly centered on his forehead. Shepard stumbled across the space between them, no longer able to aim her gun and no longer curious to see what this abomination would do. Falling to her knees at his side, she pressed the barrel to his temple and unloaded until the clip was expelled from the weapon. And still she kept pulsing the trigger, unleashing all of the fury she'd held back in those long moments spent trying to pull the Illusive Man from the Reapers' grasp with her words. 

“Shepard...” Kaidan's voice, ragged but still strong, called to her, clearing away the haze of rage. She saw that the... _thing_ at the other end of her gun had stilled. She looked up and watched through apathetic eyes as the Citadel arms opened.  

Her brow furrowed. They'd done it? Killing the man... No. That didn't make any sense. It had to be the Reapers' doing, their own decision. A calculated risk. To make her hurt that much more as she saw the battle raging on between the machines and the combined forces of the galaxy: constant explosions and weapons fire and a field so full of wreckage that she couldn’t believe anything was still intact enough to fight.  Soundless and surreal.  All at once so close and so far away.  With a burning and unrecognizable planet as its backdrop. Earth. 

Home... Obscured not by clouds but by smoke. Lost, as she was up here. So isolated and so far away from them all. So small. So painfully inconsequential. Harbinger's words ran unbidden through her mind. _And now you stand alone, Shepard._  

“Shepard?” Kaidan called again.

 _Never alone, you bastard._  

His voice pulled her from the scene unfolding before her and lifted the suffocating press of isolation. She turned her head in search of Kaidan. He was leaning back against the dais in the center of the room, blood continuing to pool all around him. 

She'd seen so many people like this before that it should have done nothing to her. He was so like all the others, too.  All people stronger than she who knew what was happening and had accepted their fate. People who knew there were more important things at the end than chasing after a lost hope. Michel Baroux and Major Deetrex securing her escape with their dying words on Akuze. Matriarch Benezia on Noveria. And Garrus. God, Garrus, her best friend, his blue blood covering the floor like a small lake and she more than certain he wasn't going to make it. That hadn't hurt like this did. This shouldn't have been any different. Her heart shouldn't have been in her throat. Her body shouldn't have been tense and cold. She shouldn't be so unsure of what to do. 

And like those others, Kaidan's expression showed none of his pain as it begged her to join him. Whether his pain was forgotten or ignored didn't matter. He was calm, no longer fighting, making no attempts to stop the bleeding. Resigned to his death, even if she wasn't yet. She went to him, knelt before him, and fumbled for an omni-tool and medigel that were no longer there. That were useless now, anyway. He laid his hands on hers, calm and firm. Forcing her to cease her efforts and wordlessly asking her to join him in acceptance. 

“Kaidan...” she pleaded, her voice so meek and so far away.

 _I'm done, and you know it,_ his eyes said. He removed his gloves and reached a hand up to her bare cheek. 

“No place else I'd rather be. No _when_. And certainly no _who_ I'd rather be with,” he assured her. She laid her hand over his and clenched her eyes shut against the tears. He laughed, as much as he could, and smiled up at her. So in love with her and so proud of her. “Always fighting. It's just us now. You don’t have to fight anymore.” His other hand, unnoticed for a brief moment, appeared between them, a little box held proudly in it. “You better wait till I've said my piece,” he warned her. 

She nodded and let his hand go so that he could open the box without her aid, and desperately wished she hadn't done as the warmth of his touch faded. The ring, minimalist and beautiful, was a band of two twined metals, one light and one dark, holding an ovular diamond. She gave up fighting the tears as his hands began to tremble, causing light to dance in the diamond. His eyes had never been more sure as he regarded her. 

“I wanted to do it right, you know. Ask your parents' approval, do this someplace special, call all our friends together to share the news.” He had to pause to hack and wheeze. The effort demanded too much from him she noticed, as he couldn't quite sit up straight after he recovered. 

She swallowed hard to keep the real crying at bay as his inability to simply _sit up_ drove home the extent of the damage done to him. _This is the end_. No amount of wishing it weren't so, of refusing to say good bye, was going to change that. 

“But I won't go without the chance to ask you,” Kaidan said, as if sensing her thoughts. “I had this speech worked out, about how the metal is from both of iterations of the _Normandy_ , about how they represent us and the life you’ve created around us. How it shows your ability to always make the worst things into the best ones, like this moment right here. How you make me feel like a better man just by smiling at me. I don't want to waste words, now.” He shifted and tried to rise. She used what strength she still had to force him back down and he nodded his acceptance. Then he drew a deep, shaky breath, and met her eyes. 

“Lisa Allara Shepard, will you marry me?” 

She nodded fiercely and hoped that one of the many “yes”es she mouthed had some voice to it. He would have known her answer all along but he gave her the broadest smile she’d ever gotten from him nonetheless. A smile that sent waves of warmth through her, chasing away the hurt and darkness, if only for a moment. A smile that did not fade as he struggled to slide the ring over her beaten finger. Then Shepard leaned down and kissed him, and tried her damnedest not to break when he couldn’t wrap his arms around her like she knew he wanted to. And fought again to maintain her composure when his lips started to go limp and she backed away before his fading strength was what caused them to part. 

Shepard sat, now, and pulled him into her as much as she could, wrapping her right arm around him so that she could twine the fingers of her left hand with his, keeping the ring firmly in his view. He looked up at her, his expression content despite eyes that were beginning to go glassy, not truly focusing on anything at all. She’d lost her ability to echo his contentment, her heartbreak having tied anchors to the corners of her mouth, holding the ugly, painful frown in place. 

He released her hand and feebly reached up to her face but he lacked the strength to reach it, sending a hot lance through her already shattered heart. It was an arm that had had the strength to pick her up and pull her through hell not five minutes ago. Before the pain of the failure could reach him, too, she grabbed his hand again and clutched it tightly to her breast. 

“I love you, Lisa, always,” he coughed out, up in her direction, but not quite at her. 

“And I, you,” she returned, adjusting her position to make eye contact with him. But his eyes stared vacantly into the air between them, failing to see her. A sob wracked its way through her and made the pain in her side pulse anew, an angry red flash that reminded her of her own sorry state. “You won’t be alone for long,” she informed him sadly, her voice soft but solid. 

He gave her hand a fierce squeeze and growled into the empty space before him. “Don’t you. Dare.” A pause as he sucked in a deep, painful breath. “The woods are lovely, dark and deep. But you have promises to keep, and miles to go before you sleep.” He surprised her with her favorite poem, something she’d never discussed with him, not once having the taste for poetry as a whole after Virmire. A strange thing, to have your heart swell just to be crushed all over again. She’d known, even on the SR-1, how he’d felt about her and that he was a romantic. Of course he’d have been paying close attention on one of the many occasions when she and Ash had discussed their favorite poets. A little thing; it was always the little things that truly made her love him and in return, showed how much he loved her. 

His gift of poetry wasn’t meant to reassure her that she could carry on, to confirm that it wasn’t time to be done just yet. It was instead an order, just as his ‘Next time, wake me’ request had actually been. A simple task for her and one she’d performed every morning from then through the short nap they’d caught between the Illusive Man’s base and Earth. And like that one, it added to her fire. His lips moved again and she felt his chest expand against her arm as he inhaled but the last words of the poem didn’t come. 

“And miles to go before I sleep,” she echoed back the final line to him, affirmation that she wouldn’t give up. He nodded. His chest was expanding less with each breath, and each breath had been reduced to a wheeze. Short, shallow, useless. Suffocating. If he was still thinking much of anything, she prayed it was not him realizing that she knew exactly what it felt like to suffocate. 

Lisa Shepard never sang for anyone, rarely even for herself, but she did now, returning Kaidan’s gesture with one of his favorite songs. She rocked him back and forth, hoping to ease his painful passing, even just a little bit. Her voice was tentative at first. When she heard how weak it sounded, she forced herself to push more air and at least keep herself in tune. Perhaps selfishly, the last thing she wanted was for him to see how weak she was, how broken this had already made her and how much farther she would fall when he drew his last breath. Singing, staying in tune, gave her a way to hide that weakness. 

Unlike the vids and the fantasy novels and the plays, he did not react. There was no ‘perking of the ears’ to the sound of his lover’s voice, no relaxation working into his tight form, no renewed focus in his hollowed eyes. No new tears from him, no meek singing along, no movement of his lips to the words, no keeping the beat with his fingers or a nod of his head or a tap of his toe. There was nothing but a dull ember, now almost fully used up and turned to grey ash. 

And so he didn’t seem to mind, to react at all, as she kept getting stuck at the bridge of the song, unable to recall the first line to it. Unable to advance to the end. 

But she held to her vigil nonetheless and kept singing a song she already knew she’d never again be able to bear the sound of. Repeating the same lines over and over, even as the strength bled from his grip, as his chin sank ever lower, as his cheek dragged down and down over her charred breastplate, taking blood and ash with it. She sang even as his back went slack and he became a rag doll in her arms. Her voice finally cracked past the point of recovery when his weak, irregular breathing ceased. Punctuated by an all too familiar wracking choke. His omni-tool flashed red and then buzzed. The dull, steady drone denoting a failed heart. A dead man. She ripped it off and threw it, growling when it failed to travel more than a few feet, snarling at it when it bounced harmlessly away. Unbroken. Taunting her. _Come get me_ , it said, _you know you need one that works_. 

Lisa pulled Kaidan’s head to her chest, burying her face in his bloody hair and giving in to the crushing pain of loss. Rough, ugly sobs wracked through her now. Uncontrollable. Stealing what was left of her precious strength. It was in that moment that she let go of all that made her Commander Shepard. Of all that made her more than just Lisa. The strength that let her hide her hurts and her fears behind strong words and a cocky grin, the presence which commanded respect from a krogan Chieftain and a turian Primarch, and the bright eyes which instilled hope even on the darkest of days. Commander Shepard was a burning star and Lisa was but an errant spark without her. Weak, cold, and utterly alone. 

But that’s what she should be now, because she’d failed to save Kaidan. It was _her_ bullet which was lodged in his abdomen. _He_ was the one who’d run ahead and fallen for the Illusive Man’s trap. Because he loved her. Because she’d ignored the rules and embraced him instead of pushing him away like a good soldier. She didn’t deserve to be Commander Shepard anymore because the Commander wouldn’t have allowed it to happen. 

No. That wasn’t right. Kaidan, the rest of her crew, all of the people who that force of nature had touched, would never forgive her for such a failure. Lisa may not deserve to wear the name of Commander Shepard any longer, but as with all of the other bleak moments in her life, she was the only one who could hold the weight of that mantle. 

She had to find her will again in his final – _No, don’t use that word. Not yet._  

She had to find her will again in Kaidan’s words, to once again heft the Commander persona she’d so painstakingly built.    

“Don’t you dare disappoint him,” she growled at herself, forcing her own wheezing, painful breaths to steady. Slowly. Surely. 

“I have promises to keep,” she stammered, lips brushing against his hair. Thumb stroking along his cheekbone as though providing him physical comfort mattered anymore. He was beyond the range of her touch, now. And finally she understood those poor animal mothers, too stupid to know their baby was dead. Too unevolved to know that it would never rise to its feet again no matter how hard they tried to impress the notion on the corpse. But they weren’t stupid at all, as they clung desperately to the last vestiges of something they loved more than their own lives. They were powerless and scared and alone. 

Like their children, Kaidan would never again rise. Just as he would never again laugh at her terrible jokes and reward her with one even worse. Or make her feel like she was the only other person in the world with his little just-for-her smile. Just as this was not a nightmare from which she’d wake feeling his strong arms wrapped around her like a safety harness, his lips brushing against her shoulder as he assured her it was just a dream. 

Now he was just a dream and that finality pulled an angry snarl from her, a reaction that was more Commander Shepard than it was Lisa. Somehow, that reassured her.

 “What’s that? Shepard? Alenko? Is anyone there?” a voice crackled over Kaidan’s hardsuit radio.

 “Shepard, sir,” she returned to Hackett, the strength in her voice an astounding surprise. _Hardly_ , Kaidan would have informed her with a smirk, arms crossed over his chest, not doubting her for a heartbeat.

 “The Crucible’s not firing. It must be something on your end,” the Admiral informed her, his voice off just enough for her to hear his desperation. No mention of Kaidan. They would know his radio still worked and hers was done for, wouldn’t they? Why weren’t they asking for him? Why was his silence accepted?

 “I see a console,” she returned absently, not yet willing to part from her dead lover. He had always been safe harbor and still was, even in this new world that consisted only of death and hurt. There was no war, here, in their quiet corner of existence. She could give in, if she wanted. Stop fighting, stop always pushing for that last little bit. It would be so easy, to pretend as if the comm link had gone dead and to then just sit and watch as she, and everyone else, joined him in death. But that wasn’t Commander Shepard and it wasn't Lisa, either. It had never been, and would never be. That’s what Kaidan’s final order for her was: don’t die with me.

 “See if you can do something,” was Hackett’s impatient order. Like Kaidan’s, it was an order that couldn’t be disobeyed. Promises to keep…

 She maneuvered Kaidan out of her arms and laid him down flat on the floor, crossing his arms over his chest and closing his eyes. Then she leaned down and kissed him one final time, a soft, lingering thing in which her heart demanded she stay with her lips pressed down on his forehead forever. As if it would change anything. As if he, or she, were more important than anyone else. They weren’t. He'd never allowed her to forget that and she sure as hell couldn’t fail him now. Shepard couldn't stay here. She pulled away through sheer force of will and wiped her eyes on the backs of her bloody hands.

 “And miles to go before I sleep,” she said firmly to Kaidan, not caring if the radio picked it up and broadcast it to the entirety of the combined fleets. They owed her that much. Commander Shepard rose to her feet and stumbled her way towards an alien console and what was a suddenly far darker future. But one she would be damned if she didn’t ensure for them all.

**Author's Note:**

> There are a few differences from the canon of the game itself, in addition to the AU idea. I got them wrong when I originally wrote the piece but after seeing how much more effective those mistakes were, I chose to leave them in place. I've also taken liberties with some of the in-game dialogue and Shepard did not pass the final reputation check. Sixth playthroughs and I still haven't gotten that...


End file.
